The Playoff Series
by tml4thecup
Summary: Seven years after he has defeated Voldemort, Harry Potter attempts to bargain with the remaining Death Eaters by engaging them in a seven game hockey series. This is a retake on a previous story of mine, slightly changed, of course.
1. The Deal

**About the Author**: This is a story that I started three years ago, but never got around to finishing. Like I said before, I am an avid fan of hockey, Particularly the Toronto Maple Leafs. I did some work on this story during the NHL lockout, but none significant enough to mount any changes. Hopefully I've done a little better this time round, and hopefully I have the time to focus on working/finishing the stroy. Please enjoy, and feel free to make any suggestions, provided they remain on the side of constructive criticism.

**Disclaimer**: I understand the Copyright laws pertaining to the characters and other related paraphernalia of the Harry Potter series, and by all means have no desire to compromise the integrity of the writing of J.K. Rowling. This disclaimer applies to this chapter as well as all the chapters henceforth that this story may be composed.

**The Playoff Series**

Chapter 1: The Deal

Seven years after he defeated Voldemort, Harry Potter still faces problems with Death Eaters still at large. Lucius Malfoy, along with twenty-three others had managed to escape from Azkaban, and Harry, now Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has spent the last two years with his team of Aurors attempting to track them down. Some days have been successful, but most have not, and he's getting impatient with these Death Eaters continuing to wreak havoc all over Britain, and elsewhere in the world.

He was sitting at his desk when he had come to a conclusion. For eleven years, Harry had fought tirelessly against these mindless, gutless individuals who refused to back down even after Voldemort's defeat. He realized that he was fighting a losing battle, and that the only way to have them cease their continuing attacks on the magical community was to bargain with them.

"It is the only way." he had said to his wife of six months, Ginevra Weasley, that night. Of course, Ginny wasn't too happy about it, but she understood that her husband was willing to do what it took to see that these criminals stay away from the people of the British magical community and their families. "I'm going to need your help." He said to her. Without hesitation, she nodded.

After some thought and organization, he approached Malfoy Manor on a cloudy Tuesday night, and surrendered himself to the Death Eaters at the door. After stripping him of his wand, and searching him, they placed Harry's arms behind his back, cast a binding spell, and brought him before their leader, Lucius Malfoy.

"Look who decided to drop in," he scowled. There was a slight snicker around the room.

"Malfoy," Harry sputtered. "I've come to make a deal. Hear me out."

"What if I say no?" Malfoy sneered.

"Listen," Harry urged, "After eleven years of trying to capture you and your men, I have come to realize that it's not possible. I just don't have the patience anymore. I'm prepared to make you an offer."

"So…" breathed Malfoy, his lip curling into a significant grin, "The great Harry Potter, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the renowned hero of the British magical community, has come down to begging me to listen to his petty offer." Some of the Death Eaters around Harry began howling with laughter. He noticed the laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange to his right, and his eye twitched painfully. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

"Question, Mr Malfoy," Harry implored, "Have you ever heard of the sport called 'Ice Hockey'?"

"Should I have?" Malfoy retorted, "I will tell you this, Potter. I will not play some petty Muggle sport to give you what you want."

"Oh, but you'll like this sport, judging by the way you like to 'play dirty'," Harry said. "If you wish, I'm sure Mr Corson over here can explain everything about it that you'll need to know." He pointed to a man on his right

Malfoy looked over at Corson. "What do you know of this sport?" he spat.

"It is one that is played on ice, Sir." Corson said. "I have a cousin who plays in the top league in the world. Hard-hitting, gut-wrenching, very stimulative, my Lord. But, like you said, it is a petty Muggle sport, and not worth your attention."

"It's more than that," Harry interjected, "It is a sport that demands a great deal of physical stamina and balance. Five players aside battle for a small rubber disc called a puck, and attempt to place it in the other team's net. They can use only their sticks, and—"

"Enough!" Malfoy snapped. "What are the terms of this deal?"

At this, Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward, and said, "You're not actually considering this are you, Lucius?"

Malfoy drew his wand, and pointed it at her. "_Crucio!"_

Her screams filled the room for the next ten seconds before Malfoy lifted his wand. "Get up, Lestrange." He said sternly, "I advise you not to speak out of turn again, am I clear?" Bellatrix nodded, and rejoined the ranks. Malfoy turned back to Harry. "What are the terms of the deal?"

"Seven games. Simple." Harry said. "First team to win four of those games wins the series. Should you accept, the series will take place approximately six months from now in various pro-sports arenas. We shouldn't have trouble with Muggles because the Hockey League is currently in a labour dispute.

"The terms are thus," Harry stated. "If my team wins the series, you, Lucius Malfoy, will turn yourself in to the Ministry of Magic, and you will stand trial for murder, sabotage, and use of the Unforgivable Curses. You will surrender the location of the rest of the Death Eaters, and leave them for my Department to be dealt with. You and the rest will be promised leniency pending your acceptance of this deal."

"And what if we win?" Malfoy sneered maliciously.

Harry hesitated. This is the part of the deal he didn't like. He went on. "Your criminal records will be wiped, you and your families will be escorted safely out of Britain, and the Ministry will lay off for the rest of your freakin' lives."

"That's not enough." Malfoy voiced suddenly.

"What more do you want?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked at him earnestly and briefly stated, "You."

Harry stood, perplexed. "What do you mean?" he said slowly.

"I want you," Malfoy reiterated, "I want you to answer to us for the demise of the Dark Lord. Include this in your terms, and I will accept."

Harry looked away. This had not been part of his plan. But he wasn't about to pass up on a chance to end eleven years of conflict. Though he had much to look forward to in his life, he thought of his friends, Ginny, and how at peace the magical community would be should the conflict end. He raised his head high, and looked Malfoy straight in the eyes.

"Deal," he said. Malfoy ordered the release of his hands, and they shook upon it.

"You have six months, Malfoy." Harry said, releasing Malfoy's hand. "By then, we will both have our twenty-four player rosters, and be ready to play some hockey. I'll owl you the venues once I get the rest of this organized."

"Very well," said Malfoy. "May the best man win. Let him pass."

And Harry left Malfoy Manor, feeling quite a bit more uneasy than when he entered.


	2. Hogsmeade Arena

**The Playoff Series**

Chapter 2: Hogsmeade Arena

_Dear friends,_

_I come to you seeking your assistance in a matter that may finally rid the magical community of the recurring Death Eater attacks. As you know, this is a group of people that have refused to step down, even after the fall of Lord Voldemort. You may have been affected by these attacks, and this is why I ask you for your help._

_I need you to meet me at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade at 9 o'clock tomorrow evening. Let me know as soon as possible if you are able to be there. And please try not to tell anyone about this; I am trying to keep this as secret as possible._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter  
__Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_---------------------------------------------------------------_

SEPTEMBER 15, 2004  
8:58 PM

Harry approached the Three Broomsticks (Ginny at his side) with much apprehension on his mind. Not only was he seeing all of these friends together for the first time in six years, but he was also dealing with how to explain the game of hockey to twenty-five people that may have heard nothing about it in the first place. At the same time, thoughts ran through his mind of how to explain the details of his offer to Malfoy, and therefore eventually revealing that his life was at stake. His head hurt. A lot.

He and Ginny entered the Three Broomsticks, and saw many people he recognized as his friends from his days at Hogwarts just up the road. There was Ron and Hermione, of course, and then his old Quidditch team, including Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Oliver Wood. The Weasley twins were also present, as was their brother Charlie, who managed to make his way from Romania. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Demelza Robins, Jimmy Peakes, and Geoffrey Coote were all accounted for, as were, though much against Harry's present sense of judgement, Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke, and even more so, former Keeper Cormac McLaggen. A few others showed as well, including Cho Chang and Roger Davies of the former Ravenclaw team, and the current Gryffindor Team captain, Thomas Linden, a seventh year student at Hogwarts. There was a great deal of noise as everyone rushed to greet him. He couldn't help but grin, but he knew that they couldn't stay long.

"Madam Rosmerta!" Harry yelled. "Could we have…" he counted the heads "twenty-two butterbeers to go, please?"

"Anything for you, Mr Potter," said Madam Rosmerta, and she went in the back to fetch a crate. At this point, Harry stood upon a chair. The room grew steadily quiet as Harry prepared for what had to be said.

"My friends," he began. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, taking time away from what I'm sure are now your very busy lives. In a moment, I'm going to ask you to follow me, and as there isn't much time to waste, I would like you to claim your butterbeers so we can get out of poor Rosmerta's way."

Madam Rosmerta returned with the crate of butterbeer bottles, and everyone took one, each laying six sickles on the bar as they did so. Harry turned to her and blurted his thanks before beckoning the group to follow him out of the bar. The rest of the group followed.

Harry took them to a field behind the Shrieking Shack, and stopped the group. At this point, he took several slips of parchment out of his pocket, and handed them out to the group. "Read and memorise," he said as he handed the last slip to Ginny.

All at once, the group looked down and read the slip.

_Hogsmeade Arena, home to the future Team Hogwarts, is located in the clearing behind the Shrieking Shack, Hogsmeade._

Once everyone was finished reading, the parchment alit, and they all stood in the shadow of a well-lit sports arena. One by one, they entered through the main gate and proceeded into the stands, where a two hundred foot long sheet of ice met their eyes. Harry had the group gather in the benches, and turned to speak to them for the first time about the game of hockey.

"Alright," he began. "You are all probably wondering why you are all here, in front of a massive sheet of ice in an enchanted Muggle sports arena. The truth: you're all going to learn how to play the Muggle sport of ice hockey."

There were a few tense murmurs before Fred Weasley yelled out, "What's ice hockey?"

"I'll explain in a bit," Harry continued, "But I just want to let you guys know that some of you may feel a little uneasy about this, and if you are, by all means please leave. I will take no offence, but I will tell you this. Many of you have been affected by the continuous attacks by Voldemort's Death Eaters over the past eleven years. Many of your family, friends, co-workers and colleagues have been injured or killed. I ask that you do this not for me, but for our community and our right to live. I ask that you do it for those whom we continue to fight for, for every one of these souls that sacrificed themselves to get us that much closer to freedom and peace.

"It is a continuing struggle, but we have a chance to get us closer to that goal today. Who's with me?" Silence ensued for a few tense moments, but one can always count on the Weasley twins to make them disappear. They both stood up, and shouted, "YEAH!" The rest of the group followed, adding cheers and woots, and Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Then follow me to centre ice, and I will explain how this game works." Harry said.

Not one person left. The entire group followed Harry onto the ice. "Don't worry," Harry said to those hesitant to step onto the ice. "I've cast a heatless friction charm so you won't slip."

As the group gathered around Harry, he began to conjure the needed skates, pads, sticks and pucks, and said, "Those of you wearing robes might want to take them off for now."

"Okay," Harry said after seeing that the group had settled. "Ladies and gentlemen, what I am about to tell you stays here. I don't want anyone of the magical community to know about this until the time is right. Am I clear on this?" The group murmured their consent. "I need your oaths as witches and wizards that you will not divulge to _anyone_ about what I am about to tell you. Wands in the air." There were sounds of quiet murmuring as everyone dug out their wand.

"On my word as a wizard or witch," Harry began, and the group repeated. "I solemnly swear that I will not reveal to anyone the following statement spoken by Harry Potter, Captain and Coach of Team Hogwarts." A flash emanated from each wand, and for a brief moment, they were all connected by several streams of light.

"Thank you all," Harry said. "In about six months from now, we will be facing the aforementioned Death Eaters in a seven game playoff series of what is known in the Muggle world as ice hockey. I have made a deal with Lucius Malfoy that pending our win of the series, they will give themselves freely for the Aurors to deal with. They will stand trial and be sent to Azkaban for their crimes against this community." Harry spoke these words rather quickly. "Now, to --"

"Wait!" Hermione interrupted. "What if we lose?"

Harry looked at her, and then at the rest of the team. He took a deep breath before collecting his words.

"In the event of our defeat, the deal was that their criminal records would be wiped, and they get a free pass out of this country." He looked precariously at Ginny, knowing that he couldn't say anymore. He went on. "This is why it is essential that not only do I have your hundred-percent commitment, but your desire and yearning to win. We can beat these guys, but it's going to take a lot of work in a short amount of time.

"Is that going to be a problem for anyone here? If so, like I said: Please leave." And he pointed towards the exit in the stands. All stood still.

"Excellent. And once again, thank you." Harry said gently. "Now, to business. The sport of ice hockey. Some of you may already know a little about it, but for those of you that don't, I'm here to explain.

"I know that all of you have played Quidditch at one point in your lives, or have at least observed it. Some still play it now." Harry looked over at Ron. "This is why I chose you. You guys understand the competitive instincts required to win games. Believe me, we're going to need it.

"Hockey, simple enough to understand, is very much like Quidditch, only it is played on an ice surface, and the players use skates to move around." He picked up a pair of skates, and slipped them on. He used his wand to quickly, but properly lace them up. After standing once again, he continued.

"The objective of hockey is to place this round rubber disc, called a puck, and shoot it into the other team's net." Harry picked up a stick, and shot one of the pucks down the ice and into one of the empty nets. "Much like putting the Quaffle into the hoops, although you can only use your stick. You can't kick the puck in with your foot and you can't bat it in with your hand."

"There are usually five players on the ice per team at one time: three forwards and two defencemen. The forwards do whatever they can in terms of passing, deking (that is to say, feinting), and shooting in order to score on the other team, just like the Chasers, in Quidditch. The defencemen do whatever they can to try to keep the other team from scoring, as long as it is within the rules. I'll explain more about that later." Harry's glance shifted to the Weasley twins at these words.

"Along with the five skaters, there is also a goaltender. He has to do exactly what the Keeper has to do: prevent the puck from entering his guarded net."

"What about the Seeker?" Demelza Robins chimed in. "Is there a Seeker in ice hockey?"

"Excellent question, Demelza," said Harry. "The answer is no. There is no seeker in ice hockey to end the game. The game is played in three twenty-minute time frames called periods. Without the Seeker, this stresses the importance of the performance of the goaltender, because there is no Seeker to bail him out if he's having a bad game." He looked over to Oliver, Ron and Cormac McLaggen.

"However," he continued, "I am confident in the three people I have chosen to be the goaltenders, and once they're up to par, I'm sure that they will perform outstandingly."

"You said something about 'within the rules'. What did you mean by that, Harry?" George Weasley.

"Ah," said Harry, "Most of you know that there really are no sports without some form of infractions, are there?" He smirked.

"Yes, you do get penalized in hockey. Should one of the officials catch you in an illegal action, they will call a penalty on you, and you will have to sit…" Harry skated across the ice to one of the doors leading into a small boxed-in area with a bench. "…In here for two minutes or less. We're trying to avoid this because it gives the other team a better opportunity to score.

"When you're sent to the penalty box, your team must play one man short for the duration of the penalty, which is usually two minutes. This advantage is called a power play. A team can have as few as three skaters on the ice while facing such infractions, which means the other team has more room to skate, and therefore more room to shoot, and hence more room to score.

"The next question is likely to be 'What sort of infractions are there?' Well, there are the typical, common sense infractions such as elbowing, holding, hooking, kneeing, tripping, high-sticking, slashing, boarding, charging, too many players on the ice, unnecessary roughing, and unsportsmanlike conduct. Each will warrant you two minutes in here, unless the other team scores on the awarded power play.

"Since we don't have that much time, I'll explain more about the rules later. If you have any questions, please come and see me anytime, but for now, I would like to get started. I would like all of you to take a pair of skates, adjust them if necessary, and skate one lap around the ice. Most of you have never been on skates, and that's okay. Hermione?"

Hermione looked at him. "You took skating lessons when you were younger, right?" she nodded, "If you and I could go around helping the others, that would be great."

Everyone took a pair of skates and laced up, but many fell as they were trying to stand. Cormac McLaggen was one of them.

"Remember, it's all about balance." Harry shouted as he stood behind Ginny, attempting to steady her. "Focus on maintaining your balance. Keep your knees bent and your back fairly straight. Use full extensions with each stride."

It was a long process, trying to get twenty wizards and witches who, up until a few minutes ago didn't even know that gliding on ice was possible without magic, to maintain their balance on a blade an eighth of an inch thick. But after an hour, most had managed to at least stand up, and the Weasley twins were such naturals that they had already moved on to attempting to knock each other off stride.

"Okay," said Harry as Fred and George picked themselves off the ice. "That was good. A lot of progress was made tonight, but we still have much work to do. We're going to meet here three times a week for the first month or so, and we'll see how much you've progressed from tonight. Try to practice at home if you can, or find a place. Once again, thank you all for coming, and if you know anyone who might be of any help to us, please bring them in. Hermione, if I may speak to you after we're finished?"

Everyone began to take off their skates. Some began to head towards the exit, but many stayed behind to have questions answered, or just to linger with friends they hadn't seen in a while. Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

"Remember, no one else is to know about this… for now." Harry called to the ones leaving the building.

He turned to Hermione. "Hermione," he began, "If it's alright with you, I would like you to oversee the management and morale aspects of this team. I understand that sports like this are not your forte, but I still consider you a valuable member of this team. Just keep their morale up, and make sure that they show up at the designated practice times."

"Sure, Harry." Hermione said. An awkward silence ensued before Harry said, with a smile, "It's good to see you again Hermione." And they embraced.

Harry turned to Ron and said, "So, Ron, you think you're up to the task?"

"Anything for my best friend," Ron replied as he swung an arm around Hermione. "Although Wood might be the better option."

"Nonsense, old pal." Harry stated. "I saw you and Oliver play against each other last week. If it wasn't for Uribe catching the snitch, you two would still be deadlocked in a Keeper's battle."

Ron chuckled at Harry's comment. "We should get together for a coffee, or something, sometime. Just you, me, 'Mione, and Ginny."

"Sure," Harry replied. "Anytime. I'll let you know." Ron and Hermione walked up the stairs and towards the exit.

After a few minutes, the team cleared out, and Harry and Ginny were alone at centre ice. He kissed Ginny on the cheek, and said, "What do you think?"

"I just hope you know what you're doing." Ginny replied, and, arm-in-arm, they exited the arena, the lights extinguishing themselves behind them.


	3. The Venues Are Set

**The Playoff Series**

Chapter Three – The Venues Are Set

The team met regularly on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and Saturday mornings. Over the next month, they quickly learned not only how to skate, but how to skate backwards, how to properly stop, how to transition between forwards and backwards skating, and were just getting the hang of cross-over skating. It was time, Harry thought, to finally bring out the sticks and pucks.

Inside the Hogsmeade Arena, Harry blew his whistle sharply. "Alright, I reckon you guys know how to skate, and I think it's time that we finally do a couple of actual hockey drills. Let's take fifteen, and when we resume, I want all of your equipment on. Ron, Oliver and Cormac, I want you to put on the goalie equipment. Make sure it all fits, and we'll see how each one of you does."

They nodded and made a beeline for the change room.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around to see Hermione racing down the steps of the stands. She leaned over the boards, beckoning Harry to come over. Harry skated over to her, wondering why she was in such a frenzy.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry pondered.

"Harry, you would not believe who came to help us!"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"It's Viktor." Hermione squealed.

"Krum?" inquired Harry.

"Yes! He's sitting in the Three Broomsticks, waiting for you right now."

"How did he hear about this?"

At this, Hermione blushed, and Harry understood.

"I just thought we could use his help, and considering you left me the managerial duties, I saw no harm in asking." She said.

"You'd better keep him away from Ron." He warned teasingly, and, taking off his skates and replacing them with his shoes, he and Hermione exited the arena to meet him.

------------------------------

Harry quickly found out how much of a natural Krum really was. The first time on the ice, he seized a stick and a puck, and showed an exemplary talent for puck-handling, before wrist-shooting it into the empty net. Harry raised his eyebrows. He was impressed that Viktor was even able to get the puck up. "Impressive," he said. "Have you ever played before?"

"Not in a long time," Krum replied, "But ven Herm-own-ninny wrote and said you need help, I come no problem."

"Thanks, Viktor." Harry said, "We could use a natural like you.

"Alright, team!" he addressed the others, and promptly blew his whistle. "I would like all of you to meet Viktor Krum. He has come all the way from Bulgaria to help us. Those of you who know who he is know that he knows competition like no other. Welcome to the team, Mr Krum. I'm sure you'll prove to be a valuable asset."

Harry began to applaud, and the rest of the team followed. Having Krum on the team and seeing what he was capable of lifted a heavy weight off of Harry's heart, but he still hadn't told anyone about the second half of the deal. Not even Ginny.

After managing to shake himself out of his little reverie, Harry blew his whistle once more. "Alright, everyone!" he shouted. "I want everyone to pick up a stick, grab a puck, and we're going to work on stick-handling. If you feel you're ready for it, feel free to take a couple of shots on either Ron or Cormac."

Harry skated to the bench where Hermione was overlooking the team. "Thanks." He said quietly. Hermione smiled and shot him a wink.

"Pair up in twos or threes and just work on passing it to each other for now." He bellowed from the bench. "Krum," he added to Viktor, "you want to show them how it's done?" he smiled.

"For sure," Krum replied, looking over to Cormac McLaggen, now settled in his crease. He took a puck, and bolted down the ice, Harry not far behind.

Cormac was focused on the other players and their feeble passes when he quickly saw two men bearing down upon him. They were passing the puck between each other with lightning-like alacrity and accuracy. Everyone turned to look at the two as Harry crossed the blue line with the puck. He passed it over to Krum, who one-timed it back to Harry. Harry, having the open side, tapped the puck into the open net before Cormac could gather himself. He skated over to Krum and gave him props through the glove.

Everyone, now distracted, began to applaud their performance and execution as Harry skated back toward the group. "That's what you guys are going to learn how to do in the next four months," he said, "And the goalies," he looked to Ron, Oliver, and Cormac, "They're going to learn how to prevent those kinds of shots from entering the net.

"Everybody pick up your sticks, and let's start with a simple drill. Form two lines: one here, and another here" he said, pointing to the corners on either side of McLaggen. "The person at the front of each line is going to skate up the ice, passing the puck between each other. Once you get close enough, I want you to take a shot on the goal. After each pair has had an opportunity to shoot, we'll switch goaltenders, and we'll begin again. Everyone try to get at least one shot."

Harry observed this drill intently, and promptly noticed that many of the shooters had failed to raise the puck. The shots were mostly along Ron's feet, and those that did get lift only got as high as his lower pad. Harry blew his whistle.

"Alright, that was good." Harry said. "But I should probably teach you guys how to shoot properly. In hockey, there are three different kinds of shots. Allow me to demonstrate each one. Sorry, mate," he added to Ron, "but I'm gonna be picking on you for a bit, here.

"First, there is a slap shot. Fred and George have already demonstrated this with their run up the ice, but to show you," he wound up and fired the puck. It slipped through Ron's pads and into the net. "A slap shot has a lot of velocity. Some professionals can shoot it up to a hundred miles per hour. But one thing it does lack is accuracy. Often the shot will drift wide of the net, bounce off the back boards, or hit the goalie's equipment. Sometimes it will find the net; other times will leave a nice rebound. Try to gather those rebounds if you can. More importantly, bury them if you have the chance.

"To execute a slap shot, just wind, and fire. Put some muscle into it, too.

"Next is a wrist shot. This one has more accuracy, but it's not as fast. It is so named, because your wrists are what you use to execute it. If it is done correctly, it is possible to raise the puck off the ice. It takes practice, but I have faith in all of you that you will all be able to do this come game time." Harry took another puck, and demonstrated the wrist shot. The puck soared just above Ron's outstretched catching glove and landed top corner.

"Last is called a snap shot. It's about half-way between the wrist shot and the slap shot, and this is the kind of shot often used in close range. If you can, stick to the slap and wrist shots, and only use this when your opponent is quickly bearing down on you." Harry snapped the puck, and it hit Ron's blocking glove, soared six feet into the air and landed in front of him. Ron pounced on it before Harry could put it into the net.

"Now," Harry continued, "There is also the backhand shot, which is using the opposite side of the stick blade to shoot the puck." He attempted a backhand, but had it go over the net and the glass, into the seats. "Use these only as a last resort. If lucky, the goalie won't get a proper read off of it, and it just might go into the net.

"There's also the one-timer, where you don't even bother corralling the puck after someone passes it to you. They pass, and you shoot. Often it catches the opposition out of position, including the goalie. Fred and George are already quite good at this. Try to observe them next time if they're not goofing off, trying to kill someone with their sticks." The group chuckled at this.

"Finally we have the wrap-around. When you're behind the goal, and if you're not already covered by the opposition, you can catch the goalie off-guard by, as quickly as you can, coming out from behind and putting the puck in the net.

"Alright I want to repeat the last drill, but I want you all to do your best in getting the puck in the air, alright?" he blew his whistle, and they were off again, this time with Oliver in goal.

------------------------------

_1 November, 2004_

_Dear Mr Malfoy,_

_This is a letter concerning the deal made with Mr Harry Potter on 14 September concerning the deal that involves the hockey series._

_Everything is set, but I require your confirmation on the following dates and venues. The series will be played in seven different pro-sports venues located in North America, on the following dates:_

_Game One will take place at the Nationwide Arena in Columbus, Ohio on the afternoon of Sunday, 20 March, 2005 at one o'clock local time._

_Game Two will take place at the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota on the evening of Tuesday, 22 March, 2005 at seven o'clock local time._

_Game Three will take place at the RBC Center in Raleigh, North Carolina on the evening of Thursday, 24 March, 2005 at seven o'clock local time._

_Game Four will take place at the General Motors Place in Vancouver, British Columbia on the evening of Saturday, 26 March, 2005 at seven o'clock local time._

_Game Five, should it be necessary, will take place at the St. Pete Times Forum in Tampa, Florida on the afternoon of Tuesday, 29 March, 2005 at three o'clock local time._

_Game Six, should it be necessary, will take place at La Centre Bell in Montreal, Quebec on the evening of Thursday, 31 March, 2005 at seven o'clock local time._

_Game Seven, should it be necessary, will take place at the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, Michigan on the evening of Saturday, 2 April, 2005 at seven o'clock local time._

_Muggle repelling charms will be active among the venues during the course of the games to ensure the secrecy of the wizarding world._

_Please let me know if there are any issues concerning the chosen venues and/or the given dates. Otherwise, I expect your consent to these venues by no later than this Thursday._

_Expect more letters following this one as both of us continue to develop our final rosters for the opening afternoon._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter  
__Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

------------------------------

NOVEMBER 4, 2004  
7:11 PM

The team continued to run through the drills set by Harry, and he was happy to see that there was a consistent effort being put in to the improvement of each person, as well as the team altogether.

Harry blew his whistle. "Alright, guys!" he shouted. "Listen up!"

The team gathered around him. Beside Harry was a cardboard box, and everybody could anticipate what was in it.

"If you guys remember," Harry said, "On Saturday, I asked you to sign up for your 'lucky' numbers, so to speak. In this box, I have your jerseys. They have both your name and your number on the back. Please, if you can from now on, come to practice with these. I have the black ones here, and I'll get the white ones to you soon."

Harry pulled out one of the jerseys. The Hogwarts coat of arms decorated the front, including the words _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Tittillandus_. Four stripes decorated the end of the sleeves, red (closest to the hem), blue, yellow, and green. Their numbers were emblazoned in gold on the sleeve, as well as on the back. Also on the back, also in gold, was the player's last name. In this case, the jersey read 'C. Weasley', and had the number nineteen.

"Charlie." Harry said, and Charlie Weasley came up to claim his jersey.

Harry ceremoniously handed out the rest of the jerseys before slipping his own above his sweatshirt.

"Once again, team. Thank you very much for doing this. With the way you guys are coming along, I see 'sweep' come the end of March. It means they're not even going to win a game." He added, noticing some puzzled looks.

"Before you guys go, I have a few more things to say. First, I've just received confirmation from Malfoy this morning. He's agreed to the North American venues. So it's set. We begin this series on the twentieth of March in Columbus. He's also considering, however, bringing some people along."

"What's that supposed to mean?" chimed Angelina Johnson.

"I quote from his letter:

'_These venues are quite large, and therefore I intend to bring a few supporters. Of course, I do intend to keep the peace, but I'm wondering if you've even told anyone about this yet? I reckon the ministry could reel in quite a bit of revenue.'_

"In other words, he's trying to pressure me into inviting the public into the arena to watch the game."

"What did you say?" said Jimmy Peakes.

Harry exhaled quietly. "I wanted to ask you guys first. I'm all for it, seeing what a crowd can do at a Quidditch game, let alone hockey. A crowd can be a motivational force in such a game, or could be a hindering factor, if you allow them to intimidate you, as Ron found out when he first played for Gryffindor."

Ron blushed at this, and looked at Harry bluntly. "Sorry," Harry mouthed, "but it's true."

"C'mon, Harry. I think it's time that we told someone." Shouted George Weasley. "According to Dad, even Minister Scrimgeour is getting a little suspicious. Who wants a crowd?" he added loudly to the team. "Think about it. Most of them will be on our side, anyway. Let's give them something to cheer for!" The team erupted in cheers.

George stepped down, smiling at Harry. "There's your answer." He said quietly in Harry's ear. The team was still cheering, and Harry couldn't help but smile.

_They're gonna win, _thought Harry. _We're gonna win._


	4. The Team

**The Playoff Series**

Chapter 4 – The Team

_Position -No. - Full Name - Shoots/Catches - Captaincy  
__G -1 -Cormac McLaggen -L -N/A  
__D -2 - Jimmy Peakes -R -None  
__D -3 -Robert Derrick -R -None  
__D -4 -Fred Weasley -L -None  
__D -5 -George Weasley -L -None  
__C -6 -Thomas Linden -R -None  
__L -7 -Ginny Weasley -L -None  
__L -8 -Alicia Spinnet -R -None  
__R -9 -Katie Bell -L -None  
__C -11 -Harry Potter -R -Captain  
__R - 13 -Viktor Krum -L -Alternate  
__D -14 -Ritchie Coote -R -None  
__R - 15 -Seamus Finnigan -L -None  
__C -17 -Angelina Johnson -R -Alternate  
__R - 18 -Demelza Robins -L -None  
__L - 19 -Charlie Weasley -L -None  
__L - 21 -Cho Chang -R -None  
__R - 22 -Dean Thomas -R - None  
__L - 26 -Marco Helenius -R -Alternate  
__C -27 -Roger Davies -R - None  
__G-30 - Oliver Wood - L - N/A  
D -37 - Jack Sloper - L - None  
__D - 43 - Andrew Kirke - R - None  
G -91 -Ron Weasley -Left - N/A_

---------------------------------------

By the next week's end, the team had determined which position each player would be playing, and were now working on how to reinforce their skills to adapt. They had also (formally) inducted Harry as team Captain, despite the unanimous knowing by everyone that it was meant to be.

Harry appointed Angelina and Viktor as his assistants, and also Marco Helenius, an experienced Finnish Chaser and Ron's team-mate on the Chudley Cannons. Marco also has a muggle second cousin that he keeps in touch with that plays professional hockey and, at one point, played in the National Hockey League. Through him, the team found him to be a valid contributor to Harry's suggestions.

"Okay team," Harry said, that Saturday morning. "I think today is a good day to introduce to you an aspect of hockey that has always been part of the game, but not only that, it has to be done properly, and if it is, sometimes it can hurt. Yes, Fred and George," he added, seeing the looks of glee on their faces, "Today, we're going to begin to learn how to check.

"There are a couple of things you have to keep in mind, though. Since this is a co-ed team, there are a couple of ground rules we have to go over. Normally, in women's hockey, body-checking is forbidden, due to their 'fragile nature' so to speak. Don't get me wrong," he said to the women on the team, "but last time I recall," he looked at Ginny, "female breasts are rather sensitive." At this, the Weasley twins burst out in laughter.

"HA HA! Harry said 'breasts'!" They chorused through their giggles.

"Oh, grow up!" Angelina shouted. "No wonder both of you can't get a bloody date!"

"Sorry, Angelina, but that is not really a priority in our lives, right now." Fred said, doing his best to try and contain himself, only to snicker loudly after he had finished.

"Besides," chimed George, "we're looking for the ones who will accept us for who we are. Funny, but decent."

"Or immature prats." Angelina stated, not bothering to keep her voice down.

"Alright, enough, you three!" Harry interrupted. "Fred, George, you've had your fun. Now please, focus.

"Now, in this playoff series, we're going to allow body-checking to a certain limit. Girls, you can wear protectional bras if you want," Fred and George snickered again. Harry glared at them in a Professor-McGonagall-ish way before continuing. "We're going to try to limit the checking to the sides and the lower body, but that does not mean you can go up to your opponents and jab them with the end of your stick. Remember that, while checking, you're trying to _take your opponent out of the play, _not trying to injure them. You're trying to get to the puck first. Forwards, this applies to you when you go after the puck in the offensive zone. Remember, all of you. _You want that puck_. You will do anything to get that puck.

"How do you check? Simple. The best way to check is to put your shoulder into it. Gather a bit of speed, and just lean into him. Honestly, don't feel one bit sorry if you knock him on his arse. Remember that he has pads too. It's part of the game, and if they can't accept that, then it's just too bad.

"Alright, everyone on the bench except Oliver, Fred, George, Charlie, Ginny, and Krum. Oliver, if you could get in net, and Ginny, Krum: You guys and myself are going to see how tough these Weasleys really are. This is a chance to get back at them, Ginny." Harry added to his wife. Ginny could only smile.

"Okay. Ginny, Krum and I are going to start from the other end. We're going to skate up with the puck, and the Weasleys are going to do whatever they can to prevent us from entering their zone."

Harry skated down into the zone. He looked to make sure Ginny and Krum were ready, and promptly circled the net, beginning the drill. He handled the puck to the blue line, and passed it over to Ginny. She reached the red line, dumped the puck in and chased after it. The Weasley twins were immediately on her. As that happened, Harry skated into the corner, retrieved the puck, and passed it off to Krum just as Charlie came in to check him. Krum promptly shot the puck over Oliver Wood's shoulder into the top corner of the net.

Harry blew his whistle. "Someone tell me what happened." He said.

There was a brief silence before Thomas Linden chimed in. "Two people covered one player."

"Precisely." Harry said. "Focus on one person, and finish your checks. I don't want to see half-assed efforts when it comes to checking. Either you commit, or you don't. Let's try that again."

---------------------------------------

That Sunday evening, Harry was sitting in the living room of the refurbished Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, contemplating. He was still wondering how he was going to let Minister Scrimgeour know about this playoff series. _Bartering with wanted criminals, he would think, _thought Harry. There was also another ambiguous issue swimming through his mind: Cho Chang.

Harry knew that he hadn't spoken to Cho since his fifth year at Hogwarts. It was awkward, really, inviting her to play, to help him with this. She hadn't spoken much during the practices and, though she was an okay skater, she seemed a little intimidated by his presence.

Ginny entered the room and noticed her husband in deep thought. She approached silently behind him, and started rubbing his shoulders.

"Mmm, that feels good, Gin." Harry said, finding relief from a fairly effective George Weasley check.

"Glad I could be of assistance." Ginny replied. "I hope George didn't bruise anything."

"Not to worry. I'll be fine."

"Hmm," said Ginny, "care to tell me what's on your mind?"

"Oh," said Harry, "Just the typical thoughts of this whole playoff series idea. 'Was it a good idea', 'Will we be able to win' –"

"How will the Minister react once you tell him?" Ginny implied.

Harry turned his shoulders to face her.

"I know you still haven't told him, Harry." Said Ginny. "As to why, it's beyond me, but eventually, he's going to know, or he's going to find out.

"I'll tell him tomorrow." Said Harry.

"That's what you said last week," said Ginny, "Honestly, Harry, you've got to tell him. Why is this so hard?"

"He is the Minister for Magic, Ginny," Harry said stubbornly.

"Didn't stop you from telling him off when you were sixteen, now, did it?" Ginny told him.

"He wasn't my boss back then." Harry suggested, "And Voldemort was still alive.

"So what?" Ginny said imploringly, "Harry, this is for the sake of the team. For the sake of the wizarding world, for crying out loud. You can't just sweep this under the carpet and hope he finds out. That'll mean your arse for sure. Our freedom is at stake here, Harry. Our lives are at stake."

At this, Harry looked away. He trusted Ginny more than anyone else, but he still hadn't come to telling her the second part of the deal: The part that involved him.

"What is it?" Ginny asked. Harry remained silent for a few seconds. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Harry. "Don't worry about it."

Ginny stared at him with growing apprehension. _Was he hiding something, _she thought?

"You can tell me, Harry," Ginny pleaded, "Please don't shut me out."

Harry looked at her, and realized the look of slight anxiety upon her face. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to tell her. _Not yet,_ he thought.

"Ask me again some other time," Harry said. Ginny continued to look at him, worried.

"Alright. Whenever you're ready, I'm here." Ginny reassured him.

"Thanks, Gin," said Harry, and he kissed her, giving her reassurance that everything was okay. They remained silent for a while, before Ginny said, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," said Harry. "It's about one of our team members."

"Let me guess," said Ginny. "Cho."

Harry smiled, knowing that his wife and he thought along the same lines. Harry nodded. "Are you sure you're not an accomplished Legilimens?"

"Maybe," Ginny implied. "Or maybe, Mr Potter, I can read Miss Chang like a book. She's obviously uncomfortable being around you again."

"I noticed." Harry said. "I should probably talk to her, but I was thinking I should probably talk to you first, knowing how you get when I'm around other members of the female species."

Harry received a playful shot in the arm for his cheek. "Prat."

"It's true, Gin," Harry said, "Nevertheless, if she wants to play at her best, she's gonna have to get over the past. I know she has the potential to be an avid contributor to this team."

"Well, Harry. I give you permission to speak to her. But I swear, if she tries something…" Ginny said menacingly.

"You have nothing to worry about," said Harry, "She won't try anything. And if she does… well… you have your bat-bogey hex, and I once defeated the most powerful Dark Lord of our time. I hardly think she's going to be a problem."

Ginny smiled, and kissed Harry. "Thank you," she said, "For everything."

---------------------------------------

**NOVEMBER 15, 2004  
****10:31 AM**

Harry approached the office of Minister Scrimgeour, wringing his hands nervously. His whole career could come to a crashing halt if he said the slightest wrong word. _That doesn't matter in this case,_ thought Harry. _Do it for the team._

"I'm here to see the minister," he said to the secretary outside his office. She pushed the button on the intercom.

"Minister, Mr Potter is here to see you," she said.

"Send him in, Terry," said the low voice of the Minister.

Harry proceeded into the office, and was met by the aging lion-like face of Rufus Scrimgeour looking at him over his wire-rimmed glasses.

"Good morning, Harry," he said is his hoarse voice

"Good morning, sir," Harry replied.

"You wanted to see me?" the Minister growled.

"Yes, sir, but I just wonder where to begin." Harry said nervously.

"Harry, we've known each other for eight years, now." said Scrimgeour, "I know that whenever you have something on your mind, you were always willing to talk about it. Eight months, now, you've been the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and to be quite honest, I don't think the ministry has ever seen a better man for the job. Even before, as an Auror, you helped a lot of families receive closure for their losses by putting dangerous criminals where they belong: in Azkaban.

"Yes sir, but there is one group still at large." Harry pointed out.

"Yes, I know the Death Eaters are still out there," chimed Scrimgeour, "but I believe you can handle this. I've given you permission to use any means necessary to bring these terrorists to justice, and you have my full approval."

"That's just it, sir." Said Harry, "For the past two months, I've gone to great lengths in exercising a method that just might enable us to finally bring them in without any more bloodshed."

"Oh," Scrimgeour said, "What kind of method?"

_Here goes nothing_ thought Harry.

"On the night of September the fourteenth, I met with Mr Malfoy." Harry said cautiously. He paused to receive Scrimgeour's reaction, though he just continued to look at him over his glasses.

"Continue," he implied.

"I realise, sir, I probably should have told you before, but it was imperative that I went alone, and I had to make sure that nobody knew of this until the meeting was finalised. Otherwise, he would have felt threatened, and everything would have fallen apart.

"On that night, sir, I made a plea. A bargain with him, if you will. Tell me, sir, have you ever heard of the Muggle sport called ice hockey?"

"Vaguely," replied Scrimgeour. "Continue."

"Well, suffice it to say that everything I've mentioned about capturing these Death Eaters rests on a seven game playoff series of ice hockey that will take place in March of next year."

"In other words, you cut him a deal, Harry." Scrimgeour stated. "I had thought that our policy was clear on this. We don't negotiate with these people."

"I understand that, sir," Harry said quickly, "but I felt, with sound judgement on this matter, Minister, that if this didn't happen, we would spend the rest of our lives and beyond in trying to capture these individuals. Something needed to be done, and it needed to be done _now_."

"So, let me get this straight." Scrimgeour said fiercely. "Our opportunity to reel these people in rests on a playoff series of a Muggle sport that I'm willing to guarantee that little to no members of the wizarding community know about?"

"That's not true, sir." Harry said defensively. "I know about it, and for the last two months, I have taught everything I know to twenty-four other individuals, and believe me sir when I say that they're now experts themselves. Over the last two months, I have seen them practice and work and develop as a team, and I see a high probability that we will prevail in this series, Minister.

"What if we don't?" Scrimgeour implied.

Harry hesitated. He began to wring his fingers together again.

"Essentially, they get to leave the country with full immunity." Harry said.

"What?" Scrimgeour exasperated. "Let these people off Scot-free? I'm not willing to do that, Harry. You're barking mad if you think I'm going to agree to this!" Scrimgeour's wrinkled face now shone a dangerous red.

"Wait," said Harry, "There's more," He took a deep breath before continuing. "What I'm about to tell you I haven't even told my wife yet. Please, Minister, I need you to hear me out fully.

Scrimgeour glared at him, but managed to keep himself in check. He observed Harry's serious face over his glasses, and remained silent. Harry took this as a cue to continue.

"They wanted more, Minister." Harry said quietly. "They wanted me."

A long silence followed Harry's words, in which he began to look down at his shoes. At long last, Harry looked up to meet Scrimgeour's eyes. His face looked older and wearier than it had been when he walked in.

"They wanted to exact revenge for their fallen master." He said quietly. "But I urge you to remember this, Minister. I wouldn't have done this if I had any doubt I could pull this off. I believe in my team, and I believe that they will win. You need to as well, Minister, for the sake of the security of the wizarding world."

Scrimgeour remained silent. Harry could see the personal battle within his mind. _Allow him to do this and have a win-or-lose chance of having these Death Eaters pay for what they've done in the last eleven years, or refuse outright, and be sure that these Death Eaters don't walk free for their crimes, but lose this presented and well-conceived opportunity._

Harry continued. "I invite you to come to one of our practices on Tuesday or Thursday night, or Saturday morning. They really are a hard-working team, Minister, and once you see them, rest assured that any doubt in your mind will be washed away." He handed the Minister a slip of parchment with the information regarding Hogsmeade Arena. "Read and memorise, and I hope to see you there one day. And be careful, the parchment will catch fire."

No sooner had he said that than the parchment alit.

"So Minister," said Harry. "Do I have your approval to continue with this, or should I just call it off and we can chase these people for the rest of our lives while they continue to torment and tear apart the families of the innocent?"

Rufus Scrimgeour looked up at Harry. The weariness in his face was evident, but nevertheless, he nodded his head.

"Thank you, Minister, and good day." Harry turned to leave the office, but before he reached the door, Scrimgeour called out.

"Harry," he said. Harry turned to look at the aging lion-like face of the Minister for Magic. "Good luck."

Harry nodded, and exited the office, closing the door behind him.


	5. First Action

**The Playoff Series**

Chapter 5 – First Action

Three days after Harry spoke to him, Minister Scrimgeour held a directors' meeting, and asked Harry to reiterate the situation to the other Heads of Departments. The message was clear: tell as many people about this as you can without drawing attention from the press. Despite everyone's knowing that this story will eventually reach the Daily Prophet, Harry felt that the attention from the press would be distracting to both himself and his team, especially the overzealous exaggerations of Rita Skeeter.

Harry remembered perfectly well what she was capable of in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and, despite Hermione's effort to keep her at bay, she still managed to nail down a job once again with the Daily Prophet. She had registered as an official Animagus once she was hired, therefore renouncing any threat of blackmail Hermione had upon her. Though it did limit her ability to snoop around for stories, Harry and his team were still careful; whether she chose to obey these limits was unknown to them.

The following Saturday morning, Harry noticed that he had a few visitors to watch his team practice. He waved to Mr and Mrs Weasley as he made his way down to the ice. Mrs Weasley gave him a reassuring smile, which made Harry feel a lot better about his decision to tell the Minister about the series.

"Team Black," he said during the morning practice, "Keep an eye out for who is open. Cycle the puck back to the point if you have to. George has a wicked one-timer that you guys can use to your advantage." The team was working on how to execute on power-plays, and how to kill off penalties.

"White team," he continued, "Keep your eyes on the puck and where it is. If you see an opportunity to clear it down the ice, do it. Remember that the icing rule doesn't apply when you're killing off penalties."

Harry skated over to the bench. "Hermione, could you take over for a second, there's something I have to take care of," he said. Hermione nodded, and went to observe the drill. Harry took two strides down the bench and came face-to-face with Cho Chang.

"Hey, Cho," Harry said. Cho looked up, but didn't say anything. Harry continued. "Could you take your skates off, I'd like to talk to you for a second."

Cho did so, and they walked up the stands and to the arena entrance. Harry turned to her.

"I just wanted to know if you're okay…you know…with all this?" Harry said cautiously.

"I'm alright," Cho replied timidly. There were a few moments of silence, before Harry spoke again.

"Look, Cho, it's been eight years since we last spoke to each other, and I realize that we weren't exactly on good terms at the time, but I just want to let you know that I chose you for this for a reason. I've seen you play Quidditch, and I've seen you with that edge of competitive instinct that is evident in anyone who has ever played in professional sports. You're a great skater, but I see the potential for a whole lot more. What's holding you back?"

Cho thought for a few seconds, and mumbled something Harry couldn't hear.

"Is everything okay?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said Cho, "it's just…"

"What is it?" Harry urged her.

Cho looked as if she was struggling for words. "It's just what you said, though." She uttered. "I mean, we haven't spoken in eight years, and I would like to think that we're over that, and that we can look past it, but…" she trailed off.

"Cho, we are past it. You need to get over it. I'm really sorry that it never worked out, truly I am, but that was eight years ago, Cho. It's time to let go if you want to be a part of this team, and I would very much appreciate it if you are. If anything, do this for Cedric."

Cho looked at him, and Harry saw a tear welling up in her eye. _Hasn't she gotten over him, yet?_ He thought. Nevertheless, Harry took a deep breath, and continued.

"There's something I never told you in Puddifoot's. Cedric was a wonderful person and a great friend, Cho. He saw you for who you truly were: something that I wasn't able to do. I know you still miss him, and that you still think about him, what could have happened had he survived. Now, I'm not saying don't think about him, but use his spirit. Channel that through you and avenge his death by helping us put the people responsible where they belong: in Azkaban. I know you can do this Cho. Be strong. For the team. For Cedric."

Cho was now looking away, but she quietly said, "Thanks, Harry."

Harry wrapped his arms around her in a consoling hug. "Hey," he whispered, "Anytime."

He looked towards the entrance to find Minister Scrimgeour standing there, observing his moment with Cho. He let go, and quietly asked her, "Are you going to be alright?"

She nodded. "I am now," she reassured him.

"Alright. Get back to practice." Harry said. She went back into the stadium while Harry turned to the minister.

"Glad you could make it, sir." Harry said.

"This is a nice place, Harry," said Scrimgeour, "Where did you find the time and the means to build such a place?"

"Easy," said Harry. "Magic."

Scrimgeour chuckled. "Care to show me around, Harry?"

"Well, sir," said Harry, "There isn't much to see, except maybe for this." He led the minister into the arena, which could easily fit about eleven thousand people.

"It's not as big as a typical pro-sports arena, which some can seat over twenty thousand," Harry stated as Scrimgeour looked around and imagined every one of the seats filled and cheering for Harry's team. He looked down to the ice surface where the team was practicing.

"I have nothing but high praise for them, Minister." Harry said proudly. "But words are words. I think it's time to show you how committed this team really is."

Scrimgeour was led down the stairs to the ice side as Harry hopped over the boards, put his skates on, and took to the ice. He blew his whistle to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, team. Good work today, but I would like to do one more thing. First of all, I would like all of you to meet the Minister for Magic, Mr Rufus Scrimgeour." He pointed to Scrimgeour in the stands. "The minister is here to oversee your talent and capability of playing hockey. So what I had in mind was a short ten minute game. White shirts versus black shirts: we'll roll two lines on each team. Let's show him that we can do this. Just try not to hurt each other… too seriously. Defence, try to alternate partners. Whenever you feel tired, just skate to the bench and someone will replace you. Try to make the change quick, though."

The two teams assembled on either side of the centre line. Wearing black jerseys, Harry was centred between Ginny and Dean. Behind them stood Ritchie Coote and Fred Weasley. Ron stood in goal.

On the white team was Harry's old Gryffindor Quidditch team: Angelina centering Alicia Spinnet on the left, and Katie Bell on the right, flanked by George Weasley and Jimmy Peakes on defence. Cormac was their goalie (Oliver had a Quidditch game he had to attend).

Hermione and Marco Helenius volunteered to referee and watch the lines so the teams wouldn't go offside. Marco skated to centre ice with a puck. He looked at both Harry and Angelina, who were attempting to stare each other down. Making sure that both players were ready, he dropped the puck, commencing the first game action that Team Hogwarts has ever seen.

Though each player was bonded to another through team spirit, the game was as intense a hockey game should be. A fiery passion could be seen within each skater right from the drop of the puck. Harry observed this passion for a split-second, and knew that he had succeeded. He could see the determination in each one of their faces: the desire to win.

Harry won the face-off, drawing the puck back to Fred Weasley. Immediately, he skated through the other team's forwards, and missed a George Weasley check by inches. Fred cycled the puck between him and Coote before passing it up the ice to Harry. Harry gained the zone, and dumped it into the left corner for Ginny to pick up. She got to it and shot it around the net to the other side, where it was picked up by Dean Thomas. Dean noticed Harry going to the net and immediately sent him the puck in a centering pass. Harry, uncovered, had no problem placing the puck into the net for the Black Team's first goal. The red siren light flashed behind Cormac, indicating that he had been beaten on the first shot of the game. Cormac looked at the clock, frustrated. It took thirty three seconds for him to get beaten.

---------------------------------------

Overall, Harry was pleased with the amount of intensity that both teams showed during the game. He was still smarting when George managed to lay him flat (again) with about a minute to go, but he was satisfied with the spread of offensive contribution that several players provided. He himself had managed to score again in a four to one victory for his team, while Ginny assisted on three goals, and Dean contributed with a goal and two assists. Demelza Robins also scored for Harry's team, while Angelina netted the lone Team White goal.

Ron showed some spectacular acrobatics in goal, diving out with his glove arm outstretched to stone his brother, Charlie on what looked like a wide open net after receiving a pass from current Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Thomas Linden. _Now I know what the Cannons saw in him,_ Harry thought. _Maybe… finally… this is their year…_

If there was any worry for Harry, it was the overconfidence of Cormac McLaggen. Though he managed to make a nice pad save to rob Harry of his third goal (and thus, the hat trick), he had allowed four goals in a matter of ten minutes, on a total of eleven shots. Harry saw him bragging to Defenceman Robert Derrick about how he made that save, and how he had it in him all along. Harry scowled at that, thinking that he's going to need a talking-to next practice.

After Harry had removed all his gear, Harry met up with Scrimgeour, and asked him what he thought.

"It's a very violent game. Are you sure it's safe?" he said.

Harry looked at him and said, "No sport is one hundred percent safe, Minister, not even Quidditch. In this particular Muggle sport, a lot consists of survival of the fittest. I know, and I've been making damn well sure that each and every one of them is physically fit to play this game. They won't get hurt, and if they do, in this case we have something Muggles don't. Magic."

The Minister met his eyes. "Well, Harry," he said, "I can't say that I'm not impressed. I see the strenuous effort that you have put into this. I just hope that you understand that our victory is not only vital, but necessary. I would hate to have to grant those criminal terrorists full immunity."

"Not to worry, sir," Harry said. "We'll win. I give you my word."

Scrimgeour nodded, and bade Harry good day before making his way to the arena exit. Harry went back down to join the team, feeling much more relaxed now that he has the minister's blessing.


End file.
